Kiss You Sweetly
by FreakyWeird
Summary: Shane isn't a decent, he likes the fight, the adrenaline, and his mind is anything but clean. But all he wants is to have a night out with one little fight, and then to go home and give sweet kisses. One shot, short, Shanes POV. Language. Violence.


**I have decided to do a short one shot, there aint near enough for this fandom. So, basically, Shanes thoughts on some random scene that I cannot specify because one is not popping into my head right now.**

**Enjoy...**

I was walking along the dark street, just coming out of the pub. I wasn't _that_ drunk, just enough to take that edge of reality. I could hear the jeers of the lads but I couldn't make them out. I got a bad vibe off them, I didn't like them. If Claire was with me now, I know I would be pulling her along, trying to get her as far away from those lads as possible.

But I wasn't with Claire. And I was drunk. So I didn't hurry away, just strolled along, pretending not hear them come closer.

"Look at him, who does he think he is?"

"What the fuck is he doing?"

"Oh my God, the fucking nobhead."

I had to pause at this. I turned around slowly, facing the lads that were coming towards me. They were all around nineteen, twenty, and we were far away enough from the pub to be isolated.

The four of them looked me up and down with smirks on their faces.

"Can I help you?" I asked, raising my eye brows.

With a sad shake of his head, one of the dove towards me, fist flying. I ducked and the scuffle began. There were a few curses, I took a blow to my ribs and jaw, but other than that I managed to dodge them.

Pretty soon I heard the distant wail of sirens and without another thought I was sprinting down the street, adrenaline and alcohol pumping fast through my veins.

I turned a corner and slipped into a dark alley, waiting watching. Usually I wouldn't have hung about here, after all, there were still the bloodsuckers about, but I knew how to give the police the slip. Especially Morgernville police.

A few minutes later a patrol car rolled by. I waited a few seconds, making sure there were no signs of me hanging out in an alley on my clothes, and then walked out into the night, hurrying home like any other 'just having a good time' boy.

The streets remained deserted as I walked home and jogged up the steps of the glass house. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and stumbled slightly as I walked over the threshold, locking the door behind me. I dropped my keys into the dish next to Eves and walked into the living room.

The lights were off and Claire was curled up on the couch watching television. She could have been a cat for all the room she took up. She turned and smiled at me, "Have a good time?"

"The best," I sighed as I took the space behind her that she offered.

She settled into my chest and turned to look at me, the programme she was watching was all but forgotten.

She was so close. Her breaths brushed and ticked my face. Her big eyes assessed my face, locking into my eyes and then my lips. I watched her dazedly until her gaze settled onto the bruise that must be covering my jaw.

She didn't tell me to stop fighting, or complain about safety, or worry. We had gone past that stage, which had all but lasted a week. She knew that she didn't want to change me; she knew I liked to fight. Or honing my skills as I called it.

Instead she just kissed the mark, so lightly I could have imagined it. With a hum I closed my eyes and settled back as her hands ran over my chest and her lips caressed my eyes lids and my cheek bones. When she finally kissed me it was sweet and full of caring and love.

Until my hands began to wander. They started on her knee and began trailing up her thigh, and then my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up to me and against my chest. She shifted so that she was sat up facing me, and the kiss deepened.

Her small hands made me shiver as they ran along my skin, in and out my hair, caressing me. My hands pulled her closer to me, ran up and down her small frame and brushed through her hair.

Only Claire could touch me so delicately. Only she saw the reason too, I guess. Where everyone saw me for me, the big one, the sarcastic one, she saw me for who I was, the one who wanted to be touched softly, the one who wanted to speak to people.

Claire sat back, her breathing heavy, and I watched her though unfocused eyes. I looked at her up and down, making her shiver.

Now don't get me wrong, I love how decent Claire is. But every time I look at her, to me she looks hot. The way her waist is so small, her curves so round, the way her jeans hug her legs and make her arse look so good.

Unconsciously my hand circled her waist and gripped her arse, pulling her towards me for another round of kissing. She gasped slightly as my hand drifted under her t-shirt and ran up her spine. I could feel the tenseness in her shoulders melt away with my touch.

I loved the influence I had on her. I broke away from the kiss and glanced down, at her arms. Goosebumps were all over her arms and as I glanced into her eyes I could see the way her pupils were dilated.

But what I loved most was the influence she had over me. But I didn't want her to know, I didn't want her to know how crudely thought of her. Because she was my Claire, and she deserved better than me. She deserved so much better.

So when I kissed her, I kissed her softly. I kissed her sweetly.

**Thoughts? Yes, no? Oh well, Shanes a leg end so there's that ;{)**

**FW ;{D**


End file.
